A PERSONAL INCIDENT
was the next inquiry, and the reply was, "Blanja." "Where are you for?" and other questions followed, but by this time the bow of the boat was off and we were drifting stern-foremost out into the stream and the sheltering fog. As the distance widened and shouts came to stop, the answers returned were derisive and misleading, for everyone felt that the real danger was past and the life he had made up his mind to lose would not be required of him that night after all,
It was true that we had yet to pass the Residency at Bandar Bharu, five miles lower down, and we had been told this was in the hands of the Maharaja Lela, but there at least there was no barrier, and we were confident that we had nothing more to fear.
We passed Bandar Bharu quietly, we saw a light on each bank and a man on watch by the light, and we said to each other that it would be very easy to shoot the men as they placed themselves so conveniently en évidence.
Ten miles lower down the river, it being then only 3 A.M., we were suddenly hailed by a voice threatening death and other penalties if we did not immediately declare who we were. That was a very welcome challenge, for I recognised the voice,
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